


T.W.A.T. - Tonks Weasley Amour Toujours

by LaBelladoneX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Nail Polish, Rave, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 15:16:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15439896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelladoneX/pseuds/LaBelladoneX
Summary: “He’s made me feel alive again, Draco. He’s made me remember what it’s like to be Narcissa Black.” That’s about all the drama, the rest is pure comedy… at least, I think so!





	T.W.A.T. - Tonks Weasley Amour Toujours

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot was born from a drabble I wrote for Strictly Dramione’s FanArt Friday on Facebook. Charlie and Narcissa were briefly mentioned as a side-pairing and, due to your PMs and requests, here they are.
> 
> There is no set birth date for Narcissa Malfoy so I’ve made it the same day as Charlie Weasley - 12th December. The story begins on 4th September, 1999 — Charlie is 26 and Narcissa 43. Also, Teddy is a little older here to suit the story…. and Fred’s not dead!
> 
> Dedicated to coyg-81, In Dreams, and Noppoh, because they don’t complain when they alpha/beta what comes out of this bizarre imagination!

P

 

_The Extended Family_

Molly Weasley sat on the bench under The Burrow’s kitchen window and closed her eyes to enjoy the sunlight on her face. She truly felt happy in that moment; life was better, none of her family were in mortal peril, and her experimental Jam Roly Poly had rolled its way into everyone’s hearts. It really was a good day.

Except.

It was only a minor little niggle but it was beginning to fester.

Eventually she’d have to deal with it and, right now, she didn’t know how.

“Molly!” Draco Malfoy hollered from atop his Sirocco-500, the racing broom’s stirrups gleaming in the sunlight. “Your youngest’s cheating again!”

“Am not!” Ginny shouted, hurling a hex in his direction, cursing loudly as he dodged out of the way just in time. “What the fuck, Dr—”

Well, that moment of peace didn’t last too long.

“Ginevra Weasley! Language!”

“Yes, Ginevra, language,” Draco taunted. “See? Always lowering the tone. Why my fiancée asked you to be Maid of Honour, I’ve no idea.”

“Because I’m Hermione’s best friend,” the fiery redhead spat back, her eyes full of mischief as she hovered beside him. “And you love me.”

He sighed dramatically. “I really do.”

Molly smiled; if she'd placed a bet a few years previously that Draco Malfoy would become such a welcome member of her extended family, she’d certainly be quite comfortable by now. Still, she thought, life really is full of surprises. The love between Draco and Hermione was one of the strongest bonds she'd ever witnessed, but it was nowhere near that of a rather dashing King Arthur and his Mollywobbles.

She giggled to herself, waiting for the hot flush to subside.

Ah… young love.

It was rampant within the Weasley clan with Bill now happily married to Fleur, Percy engaged to Audrey, Fred and/or George with either Angelina or Katie — it was hard to tell — not to mention the blossoming romance between Ginny and Harry. Even Ron was in on the act these days, all loved up with Lavender Brown.

But her happiest memory of the year so far was the day Draco Malfoy threw himself at Hermione’s feet and begged for her forgiveness. Not only had she given it happily, but she’d accepted his love and proposal not long after. Celestina would have a field day singing about it all.

Molly’s little perfect world of romance had just the tiniest dent, however — Charlie. He was by far the most handsome of her boys — according to all the single witches who constantly vied for his attentions — but not one caught his eye. His slightly panicking mother even got her husband to broach the subject of… _you know_ … to which Charlie roared laughing and told his father to assure her he was most definitely not… _you know_.

Arthur was very relieved. Not that there’s anything wrong with being… _you know_ … but it meant Molly would stop worrying. For a while.

She was determined to see Charlie happy and settled — now that he was back working with dragons in England — but beggars can’t be choosers. She’d accept happy, if that was all she could get. In the meantime, her checklist of single witches was now dwindling rapidly and she was nearly at the point where widows and — _Merlin forbid!_ — divorcees were looking like potential options.

Speaking of widows…

The whooshing Floo announced the arrival of Andromeda and Teddy to join the afternoon’s Quidditch game and late lunch. These Saturdays were fast becoming the highlight of Molly’s week and, with a beaming smile and open arms, she rushed inside to welcome her guests.

Hermione always laughed when she saw Andromeda and Molly stand together — one tall, dark, and rake thin whilst the other was short, fair, and… not thin. They apparently reminded The Brightest Witch of Her Age of Miss Hardbroom and Miss Cackle from her favourite children’s stories, ironically about witches and evil wizards.

“Andy! Come in, come in. And Teddy, look at you! Have you grown since I saw you last?”

“Em… I saw you last week, Nana Molly,” the little boy answered — all the children called her that, relatives or not. “I see you every week.”

“Tsk!” Molly waved her hand. “You grow more handsome every day. Now, everyone’s outside on their brooms. I think Draco has the new one he ordered—”

She didn’t get to finish as the young boy dashed outside. Everyone in the family adored Teddy, spoiling him rotten, but he had a particular soft spot for Draco. Harry encouraged their special friendship, making sure the orphan and his cousin could bond. They needed each other — Draco especially — and the three of them were often seen together at Quidditch matches, cheering on the Harpies or joking with Ron when the Cannons lost spectacularly.

Molly laughed at Teddy’s rapid departure, straightening up to embrace her friend. She had reached out to Andromeda after the war to make sure the witch was coping — having lost her family so tragically — and they found themselves growing closer with each visit Molly made.

“Molly,” Andromeda began, kissing her friend on the cheek. “I need a favour. Narcissa is with me, do you mind? It’s taken me all this time to persuade her to come out and she turned up at my place an hour ago. Is that—”

“Of course, Andy. Go get her! I’ll tell Draco now.”

Nodding her thanks, Andromeda stepped back into the Floo and Molly rushed out to call Draco.

The tall blond left Teddy to his new broom and immediately made his way over to Molly, noticing her worried features.

“Molly, what is it?”

“Your mother is coming over. Andy is bringing her now.”

“ _What?_ Seriously? We haven’t been able to get Mother to leave the Manor since… well, since _he_ died. How—”

“I honestly don’t know, Draco,” Molly replied. “But Andy’s been trying to coax her out of the house for almost a year now and today, she just turned up.”

Draco looked astonished, mirroring Molly’s expression. They had no time to comment further, however, as the familiar sound of the Floo caught their attention.

“Mother!” Draco walked straight over and, in a rare public display of affection, threw his arms around her. “Are you alright? What-what changed your mind?”

Narcissa Malfoy smiled warmly, returning her son’s hug. “I think I’ve had an epiphany,” she laughed — a rare sound. “It’s been over a year since… everything. Your father doesn’t rule my life anymore, _he_ isn’t around to terrorise us, you’re happy with Hermione… I have no one to worry about and I’m… I’m not frightened all the time. Draco… I’m _free_.”

Tears welled up in her eyes and she laughed again as she wiped them away. “I’m free.”

Her grown-up son took a minute to compose himself, swearing blind he had an eyelash.

“Well,” Molly announced loudly, clapping her hands together. “This calls for a celebration! Narcissa, you are most welcome. We get the family together every Saturday; there are no rules. We just relax and enjoy ourselves… now that we can.”

“Thank you, Molly,” the young widow replied. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate—”

“Ah, ah,” Molly interrupted. “Just promise you’ll make it a weekly visit and join in with whatever you want to do. Hermione ignores us all and reads for hours, Ginny beats the boys at Quidditch every time, and the rest of the girls go home with different hairstyles every week thanks to Lavender. So The Burrow is everything from a library to a day spa. Whatever you want to do. I won’t say ‘be our guest’, just make yourself at home.”

Narcissa’s eyes glistened again as she blinked away more tears.

“I didn’t bring anything with me as a gift, Molly,” she admitted. “When Andy said she was coming over here, I wasn’t sure if you’d want me. And she wouldn’t let me Floo back to the Manor in case I refused to leave again.”

Molly attempted to argue against a gift but Narcissa wouldn’t hear of it.

“I’ll pop back, Mother,” Draco suggested. “What would you like me to get?”

Slowly, the Black side of Narcissa’s character broke through the pure-blood barrier secured by years of living under Lucius’ thumb. Her expressive eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Go down to the cellar, Draco,” she ordered. “Start on the left and bring as many bottles as you can carry. Then, head up to your father’s study and raid it! I can think of nothing better than eating and drinking his finest with all of the Weasleys, can you?”

The thoughts of Lucius Malfoy rolling in his grave whilst his wife and son drank his wine and whisky, smoked his imported tobacco, ate his secret stash of Belgian chocolate, and laughed with the family he hated most, was like suddenly winning the Quidditch World Cup single-handedly to Draco.

Grinning broadly, he headed outside and placed his wand to his throat.

“If I could have your attention please, witches and wizards. It appears we have a job to do.”

Ron moaned loudly — visions of being put to work by Molly foremost in his mind. Last time, he’d had to unblock the toilet after Hagrid ate something that didn’t agree with him. The less said about _that_ , the better.

“But—” he began, circling his broom slowly as he descended.

“Ah, ah,” Draco replied, his voice full of laughter. “This, I think you’ll like, Ron. My mother has announced the Malfoy cellar open to anyone who wishes to enter and relieve Lucius of all his worldly goods. So, may you all Floo over and take whatever drinks you’d like and consume them knowing he preferred each drop to his wife and son. In the meantime—” he lowered his wand “—Arthur, could I pop into your shed?”

* * *

_On Your Marks_

It was a sight like no one had ever seen, or could possibly have imagined. Upon hearing how they were all to spend their afternoon, brooms, brushes, and even books were abandoned.

Within minutes, the entire party was standing outside the imposing Gothic door which led to the Malfoy cellars, its wrought iron grilles giving the entrance the appearance of a prison cell, not to mention the pointed arch that could offer Draco’s eyebrow a run for its money.

Harry began issuing instructions as Hermione slipped inside the door and began transfiguring candlesticks into what they needed. Once everyone knew the rules, teams were picked — one male, one female — and the couples paired off without comment: Harry with Ginny, Draco pulling Hermione close so no one else would claim her, Ron walking over to Lavender, Bill joining Fleur, Percy standing beside Audrey, Fred and/or George with Angelina and/or Katie, and Arthur automatically holding out his hand to Molly.

That left Andromeda, Narcissa, Teddy, and Charlie.

“Ted,” Harry called over. “You hop in with Ginny, there’ll be enough room.”

The little boy ran over to his godfather and grasped Ginny’s hand. Did you know that Uncle Harry’s girlfriend played professional Quidditch, automatically making her the coolest person _ever?_

Charlie turned to the remaining ladies. “I don’t mind if you fight over me,” he quipped.

Andromeda smacked him on the arm. “I’m officially declaring myself timekeeper as I am not getting into whatever Hermione is conjuring up!” She announced. “Cissy, he’s all yours.”

With that she marched through the door and began scorching a scoreboard onto the cellar wall.

“Take that, Lucius, you prick!” She grinned, her wand burning the blood-traitor and Muggle-born names into the stone.

As the rest of the group entered the cellar and began to laugh at what Hermione had transfigured, Narcissa turned to Charlie.

“I don’t know about you but I used to be rather competitive in my day. Shall we give them a run for their money?”

“Seeker and Quidditch Captain,” he replied, sapphire blue eyes sparkling with humour. “I know no other way.”

He proffered his arm for her to take and Narcissa’s hand slid around his bicep before settling into the crook of his elbow. In the instant she touched him, Charlie felt as if the shivers from a Disillusionment charm were washing over him; his skin burning where her slim fingers gripped him, his heart pounding.

Narcissa bit her lip.

She felt it too.

They were pulled out of their mutual shock by Harry calling the teams to their positions. Each couple was given a map of the extensive cellar, a shopping list of twenty items, and five minutes in which to gather them. One team member would navigate and collect the items, the other was in charge of steering.

Only two of them knew what a shopping trolley actually was.

The more agile witches — Ginny,  Fleur, Angelina, and Katie — vaulted into the trollies with ease. Draco and Ron lifted Hermione and Lavender — one in a most romantic bridal style, the other as if he was trying to help his Great Aunt Tessie mount a epileptic thestral.

As for Percy, he decided Audrey would be better off pushing the trolley as his back was “giving him trouble”. She lifted him quite easily, but no one felt comfortable enough to comment. Arthur conjured a step to help Molly climb into the basket, discreetly standing in front so no one would see her knickers when she threw her leg over the metal frame.

That left the final couple.

Charlie — his cheeks colouring slightly — gestured at Narcissa’s outfit. Not one to notice fashionable styles, even he was impressed by the sheer elegance of her obsidian robes. Although he was certainly intelligent enough to realise the clothing was nothing compared to the refinement and sophistication that was essentially Narcissa Malfoy, née Black. He wasn’t blind to her natural beauty either. And as for that earlier feeling…

“I would appreciate your assistance,” she commented, her voice low. “This is… all new to me and I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

He leaned closer so only she would hear, not intending to get so close but finding his cheek brushing against her blonde hair. He could smell lavender, fragrant and feminine.

“You’re living, Lady Malfoy. Probably for the first time in your life.”

The feeling of his breath against her cheek pulsed through Narcissa. She gasped, unaccustomed to such a reaction. When Lucius whispered in her ear, it was usually to threaten or warn — never to make her feel anything but terror.

“My name is Narcissa Black,” she grinned. “Let’s have some fun.”

Charlie could feel a certain part of him that really wanted to have some fun with Draco’s Malfoy’s mother.

_Bollocks!_

“On your marks,” Andromeda began, “get set—”

“WAIT!”

They all turned to see Lavender waving the map in her hands.

“Sorry,” she grimaced. “Didn’t mean to shout. I was just thinking… Lady Malfoy and Draco must know this room like the back of their hands. Doesn’t that give them an unfair advantage?”

“What about a time penalty?” Hermione suggested.

Narcissa put up her hand. “I assure you, this cellar is as familiar to me as the Manor’s kitchens. Lucius liked to keep his hobbies — and his women — private. Now, please, all of you—” she looked at each of them briefly “—call me Narcissa, and I’d really like for you to help me make this place a home again.”

“Consider it done, Narcissa,” Molly called over from a cramped position in her shopping trolley.

Draco bent down to Hermione. “My mother loves baking just as much as Molly,” he whispered. “You can take the girl out of Slytherin, right?”

Hermione tried not to laugh too loudly. “She’s something else.”

He looked over at the woman who was eyeing up her shopping trolley with curiosity, a feeling of pure love flooding through him.

“Yeah, she really is.”

“Everyone ready?” Andromeda called out.

“Hold on,” Charlie turned to Narcissa. “Would you like me to help you?”

“Please,” she agreed, holding out her hand.

He summoned all the Gryffindor courage he could muster and lifted her as Draco had helped his fiancée. Narcissa instantly put her arms around his neck, breathing him in as he carefully lowered her into the shopping trolley. A vision flashed before her eyes of Charlie carrying her into her bedroom and—  

“Come on, come on,” Andromeda interrupted. “There’s quite a lot of Lucius’ wine to be drunk.”

A massive stopwatch appeared above them and began counting down the seconds.

“Right,” she called out. “Everyone ready? Three, two, one… GO!”

What followed can only be described as bedlam; screams of laughter could be heard all over the Manor as trollies bashed into one another and dropped wine bottles shattered on the flagstones.

“Draco! Domaine Leroy Richebourg Grand Cru 1949, where is it?”

“How the fuck do I know? Grab this one.”

“No, that’s 1959.”

“Who fucking cares, Hermione!”

“Lav, I can’t pronounce this.”

“No one can, Ronald. Throw it in.”

“Oh, no, you don’t! Fuck off, Chosen One. Get your own Scharzhof Scharzhofberger Riesling Eiswein, 1966!”

_CRASH!_

“What was that?”

"Em… Cheval Blanc 1947 St-Emilion. Is that a good one?”

Charlie pushed Narcissa past, their trolley almost full. She winked at Lavender as they slid by.

“Don’t worry about that one, Ronald. It was Lucius’ favourite, about 20,000 Galleons per bottle. He had it every evening with dinner. Feel free to smash the entire shelf.”

Arthur and Molly were close behind, the Weasley matriarch shouting directions to the 1811 Chateau d’Yquem.

Fred and/or George turned to Angelina and Katie. “How the bloody hell—”

“Honestly, boys!” Their mother called back. “There’s a system. When you have a pantry like mine, you can navigate a wine cellar.”

The boys shivered; there was something alive in Molly’s pantry that put a stop to their midnight snacking. Molly called it Fluffy.

A loud bell announced time up and the overflowing trollies were pushed over to Andromeda, who was laughing so much she couldn’t declare a winner. No one really cared anyway.

“Well,” Arthur spoke up, helping Molly climb back out… carefully. “Shall we return to The Burrow and toast Lucius?”

“There’s one more thing,” Narcissa said, turning to Charlie. “Can you lift me?”

He nodded, his strong arms taking hold of her effortlessly. Setting her down gently, they locked eyes momentarily as Narcissa whispered her thanks. That moment seemed to last a lifetime.

“Molly.” Andromeda nudged her friend. “See what I see?”

“I do. What do you think?”

“I think… my sister needs some happiness in her life.”

“As does my son.”

The two women nodded at each other sagely. Time to plan.

Meanwhile, Narcissa made her way over to a display case in which a bottle of Champagne rested on an emerald green velvet cushion. She slowly walked around the case, trailing her fingers across the cool glass.

“Goût de Diamants produced this especially for Lucius. For a hater of Muggles, he certainly loved their Champagne. The bottle was produced to his own design — 18 carat white gold engraved plaques with a single flawless deep cut white diamond in the middle of the upper tag. He paid over 275 thousand Galleons for it…”

“And what did he plan to do with the bottle after he drank it, Narcissa?” Hermione enquired. “Throw it in the recycling?”

Howls of laughter broke out around them.

“I have a much better idea, darling,” her future mother-in-law remarked.

“Lucius had the case warded against all manner of spells. But, do you know, he never thought to protect it against sheer brute force? Charlie, would you mind?”

“Are you sure?” He looked concerned.

"You’re by far the strongest here; do you not wrestle dragons for a living?”

“I do,” he laughed, conjuring up a sledgehammer and slicing through the glass like the proverbial knife and hot butter.

Narcissa reached forward and retrieved the bottle from it’s cushion. She tore away the black and silver wrapping and popped the cork with ease. Then, in a most unladylike fashion, she tilted the bottle back and drank deeply, her eyes closed in sheer delight.

“Next!” She gasped, holding out the bottle.

Draco put his hand out, taking the Champagne and lifting it up in a toast. “To Lucius. May the fucker rot in Hades as we drink his cellar dry!”

A large cheer went up and the bottle was handed around. When the last drop was gone, Narcissa took the empty bottle back and proceeded to smash it against the nearest wall. She picked up the flawless diamond from the pile of black glass and handed it to Molly.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Molly gasped. “Narcissa, I really—”

“Molly, you can. And you will. With my eternal gratitude.”

Within the hour, the group were back at The Burrow, rapidly getting plastered on ridiculously expensive wines. But, by far, the highlight of the evening was Draco Malfoy — bollock naked — lying in an old tin bath he’d salvaged from Arthur’s shed, up to his neck in Graham’s Ne Oublie 1882 port.

* * *

_Conspiracy Theories_

Bodies lay all around The Burrow the next morning — on couches, floors, beds, stairs. Draco slept in his bath. Needless to say, Molly’s stocks of Hangover Cure and Pepper-Up would have to be replenished by the end of the day.

But, stepping over everyone to make her way to the kitchen, she noticed Charlie passed out on the couch nearest the fireplace with Narcissa curled up beside him, her head on his shoulder.

Molly paused to look at them. Narcissa looked so peaceful, as if the weight of the world had been removed from her shoulders. She truly was a beautiful woman, Molly thought, inside and out.

“Molly,” Andromeda whispered from the kitchen door, “kettle’s on.”

The two women sat outside, sipping tea and Hangover Cures.

“I can’t believe how she acted yesterday, Molly,” Narcissa’s older sister commented. “She was so free! So happy! _That’s_ how I remember Narcissa, I’m delighted she’s back!”

Molly nodded. “No one deserves the life she’s had, Andy. I’m thrilled with how yesterday turned out.”

“You couldn’t write it,” Andromeda laughed, looking over at her nephew snoring away in a tin bath full of port. “But, I think you and I agree, something else occurred yesterday, hmm?”

“Hmm, indeed,” Molly replied. “It seems my son and your sister may have discovered a certain spark between them.”

“What do you think of that? Me, I just want to see Cissy happy and I think she could be with Charlie. He’s strong, outgoing, in control — not to mention, he’s seriously attractive—”

“Stop!” Molly put up her hand. “I’ll listen to all his good traits, but I don’t need you drooling over my boy. There are some things a mother just does _not_ want to know.”

Andromeda laughed. “The main point is he’s not a ponce like Lucius was, with his capes and canes. Charlie is a _man_ . And he can take care of her; he’ll let her _live_ , not keep her imprisoned. There’s just the—”

“I don’t care about the age gap, Andy. I’ll give anything to see my boy happy. He’ll be 27 in December. What age is Narcissa?”

“Her birthday is 12th December, she’ll be 44.”

“Really? Same day as Charlie. So what if there’s… hold on… it’s too early… 17 years between them! We live long enough that age doesn’t really matter. We just have to encourage them to spend more time together, and give Narcissa the life she deserves. I want to hear her laugh more often, don’t you? So let’s see what we can achieve by Halloween, what do you think?”

“I take it Saturdays will continue at The Burrow?”

“Of course, and we can add a few more events as well. Although, judging by yesterday, we won’t have to try very hard, Andy.”

“No, Molly. I don’t think we will.”

* * *

_Plan A_

“What the fuck are you wearing, Mother?”

Narcissa stepped out of the Floo in a patterned green dirndl, the traditional peasant clothing of the Austrian Alps. Her outfit was completed with a white low-cut blouse with short puffed sleeves, a lighter green apron, long white socks, and dainty black shoes. Her caramel plaits were piled high on her head.

“Well, aren’t you one to talk, Draco?” she quipped, kissing her son on the cheek. “Lederhosen suit you.”

Charlie walked into the living room just then, drying his long hair in a towel, casually dressed in Muggle jeans and a faded grey T-shirt.

“Charlie! Tell Mother she looks ridiculous!”

A raised eyebrow at Draco Malfoy in shorts said it all.

The extra from _The Sound of Music_ stormed out, leaving Charlie and Narcissa alone.

“You look beautiful.” The words were out before he had time to think.

She blushed. “Thank you. My adventurous side decided to come out again. Are you not dressing up?”

“I don’t think so,” he laughed. “I know all the younger ones have gone to town with their outfits… Shit! Not that you’re old… I didn’t mean—”

Narcissa laughed, the sound music to Charlie’s ears… and other regions.

“I don’t see why I should wear traditional robes all the time, do you? Especially since my son has taken a liking to a certain brand of Muggle clothing. What’s the name… Armani?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he admitted. “Ginny introduced me to a Muggle shop called Primark, hence the very casual look.”

“It’s good on you,” she smiled. Very bloody good, she thought.

Before Charlie could reply, Molly entered the living room, dressed similarly to Narcissa.

“Willkommen zum Oktoberfest! Wir haben Bier! Viel, viel Bier!”

“Danke, Molly. Du siehst festlich aus.”

“I’ve no idea what you just said, Narcissa,” Molly laughed. “I just asked Fleur how to say we have lots of beer. Merlin, that girl speaks a lot of languages! Now, I have a place set for you, right beside Charlie. Come on.”

Later that evening, following the consumption of quite a significant amount of German beer, Molly clinked her stein against Andromeda’s.

“Right, that’s three Saturdays down. What’s next?”

* * *

_Plan B_

“What the fuck are you doing, Mother?”

“Apparently, Draco, I’m part of a human castle to celebrate La Mercè,” she called down to him from Charlie’s shoulders. “It’s a Catalonian tradition that Molly thought it important to celebrate.”

Charlie was barely keeping it together, gripping onto Narcissa’s ankles as she balanced on his shoulders, her arms around Angelina and Katie who were also standing up on Fred’s and/or George’s shoulders. Hermione and Ginny were at the top, laughing hysterically and trying desperately to hold their balance.

They didn’t last long, the ‘castle’ collapsing down dramatically. Charlie caught Narcissa in his arms, holding on a little longer than was necessary.

“Are you alright?”

She laughed. “I might be bruised in the morning but I’m okay. That was so much fun!”

“Are you sure you’re alright? I thought I saw Ginny’s foot hit you as she fell.”

“She didn’t hurt me, Charlie, I promise. I’m alright.”

“Well, okay then.”

“Charlie?”

“Hmm?” The sound of her voice when she said his name was intoxicating. Charlie’s heartbeat sped up.

“You can let me down now.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“I think September was a great success, Molly,” Andromeda announced, raising her glass Rioja. “What comes next?”

* * *

_Strategy Meeting_

“The Matchmaking Festival in Lisdoonvarna is on.”

“Too obvious.”

“The Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta?”

“Arthur is afraid of heights.”

“London Cocktail Week?”

“Now you’re talking!”

* * *

 

_Plan C_

“What the fuck are you drinking, Mother?”

“I do believe it’s called an Angel’s Tit, Draco. You can tell by the cherry, see? Charlie is having a Bend Over Shirley, and Ginny a Red-Headed Slut.”

Her eyes widened at what she’d just said before proceeding to break into a fit of laughter that had tears flowing down her cheeks. She looked so… happy, so relaxed and free.

Charlie finished his Bend Over Shirley and pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes firmly shut. He was in serious trouble.

* * *

_Plan D_

“What the fuck are you watching, Mother?”

“Shh, Draco. C'est le Festival du Nouveau Cinéma de Montréal. The couple in the movie are contemplating life through the medium of nail varnish. C'est très intéressant. Charlie, passer le pop-corn, s'il vous plaît… Merci.”

* * *

_Plan E_

“What the fuck are you at, Mother?”

“Oh, Draco,” Narcissa panted, her glow-stick bracelets jingling on her wrists. “Andy was telling me Teddy loves electronic dance music so we’re celebrating the Amsterdam Dance Event. I’m sorting the post, see? Now I’m feeding the chickens. Charlie also taught me this one, look. Big box. Little box. Big box. Little box. Oh, could you pick up my baseball cap? Dank je!”

* * *

_Reconnaissance_

“He can’t take his eyes off her, Andy.”

“No, he can’t. And I overheard her asking Ginny what Charlie’s favourite food is. Think she might be planning something?”

“Well, good luck to her on that one. Charlie’s favourite food is Chinese Takeaway.”

“What’s next on the calendar, Molly?”

“Halloween. What theme will we go with?”

“Something Venetian… romantic.”

“Okay.”

* * *

_Plan F_

“What the fuck are you carrying, Mother?”

“Buonasera, Draco. It’s my mask for Molly’s Masquerade Party. What do you think?”

She held it to her face so he leaned forward to take a closer look. The mask took the shape of a Common Welsh Green, its body consisting of tiny emeralds shimmering in the fading light. The dragon was curled up — as if resting — around the small gap for Narcissa’s left eye.

“Now, watch this,” she said. Reaching up to tickle its tail, the dragon reared, spitting a ball of fire towards her right eye. The flames — rubies and yellow diamonds — instantly formed a frame, completing the mask.

Narcissa’s dress comprised of a tight fitting bodice in the same shade of green as the dragon, the fire-patterned skirts rippling like flames as she danced in Charlie’s arms.

She looked like a pagan goddess and Charlie knew — from the moment he saw her — that he couldn’t deny himself any longer.

* * *

_Operation Lady Chatterley_

“Andromeda. Andromeda. Andromeda. This is Molly calling. Repeat. This is Molly calling. Arthur is on the move. Repeat. Arthur is on the move. Over.”

“Copy that, Molly. Draco in sight. Repeat. Draco in sight. Operation Lady Chatterley is a go.  Andromeda out.”

* * *

_Pop Art_

“Charlie,” Arthur groaned as he lowered himself down onto the grass beside his son. “I’m getting too old for this. Still coming out here, hmm?”

They were under the largest oak tree a few fields over from The Burrow. Each of the seven Weasley children had a spot on the land where they would go to think, cry, lose virginity, hide banned substances etc. Charlie’s was the old oak.

“Some things never change,” he replied to his father, leaning back against the tree and pulling his legs up to rest his forearms over his knees. His hair was loose, hiding his face as he bent his head.

“I’m fucked, Dad.”

Arthur sighed. “I think what you are, Son, is in love.”

“What do I do?” Charlie raised his head, admitting to the tears streaming down his tanned cheeks.

It didn’t matter in that moment that Arthur Weasley was 49 years of age and his son 26, he still gathered Charlie up in his arms and held him close, letting the young man cry on his shoulder.

“I’m not good enough for her, Dad! I can’t offer her… I can’t breathe. I can’t… I want her so much.”

“Charlie, if there’s one thing your mother and I taught you kids was to be yourselves. We’re so proud of you — the man you’ve become. You can offer her many things, without money or status. You set out from Hogwarts to follow your dream of working with dragons. So what if it isn’t a routine, normal job! It makes you happy, that’s all that matters. Know why I work in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office? Because my work is my hobby. I enjoy my life; it’s simple but I don’t answer to anyone. Except your mother. And my boss. In that order.”

Arthur moved so Charlie could sit back up. For a moment, he was a young father again, wiping tears from crying eyes.

“Your mother assures me it would be worth your while to ask Narcissa to accompany you to whatever social event she’s planning next. She’s mentioned some Indian thing with camels.”

Charlie laughed, thankful for Arthur’s support. “You’re forgetting the age gap, Dad.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll hear some comments from Draco on the subject. But, as for me and your mother, we just want to see you happy. She’s good for you, Charlie. And, between you and me, Narcissa is a formidable woman. She deserves some happiness after suffering at the hands of Lucius Malfoy for all these years.”

“What if she says—”

“If the All-Wise One says it’s worth your while, Charlie, then it’s worth your while. Come on, I know where Molly’s hidden the Battenberg. Still a fan of marzipan?”

* * *

" _Men Are What Their Mothers Made Them” — Ralph Waldo Emerson_

“Mother? Can we talk?” Draco paused by the living room door. “Are you alright? Are you crying?”

“Oh, Draco!” Narcissa frantically wiped her eyes as he came closer. “Don’t mind me, I’m just being silly.”

“No, you’re not.” He knelt down on the floor beside her chair, taking one of her hands in his. “I’ve just had a chat with Andromeda… about Charlie. Are you… are you in love with him?”

Narcissa’s eyes widened. “Talk about getting straight to the point.”

“Answer the question, Mother. Please.”

Tears welled up in her eyes again. “He’s made me feel alive again, Draco. He’s made me remember what it’s like to be Narcissa Black. I thought we were just sharing a friendship but I know I feel more for him than I should. I’m sorry—”

“Hey, hey,” Draco whispered, standing up and drawing his mother into a tight embrace. Narcissa instantly wrapped her arms around him. “Don’t apologise. If one good thing has happened recently, it’s seeing the sparkle back in your eyes.”

He stepped back to hold her at arm’s length, smiling warmly down at the woman he adored. She protected him through it all, saving Draco from a life of hell, and he would never forget that.

“It’s not even a year since we were in the same positions here, remember? Only I was the one in love and you were telling me to find Hermione and tell her how I felt. Mother, if it wasn’t for you, I’d be miserable. You gave me courage to find love. What kind of son would I be if I denied you happiness?”

Narcissa frowned, his words not easing her fears. “I don’t want to bring shame on the family, Draco. I don’t want to embarrass the Weasleys; they’ve welcomed us both with open arms. What would they think if they found out I was… oh, Draco! I never loved your father, never respected him. This is all new to me, I… I don’t know what to do!”

“The only family that matters is me, Hermione, Andromeda, Teddy, and the entire Weasley clan — even Percy. Fuck everyone else. Now, I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to invite Charlie Weasley to dinner and I happen to know he’s free this evening.”

“Should I?”

“You should. Look, Lucius is gone. We have a chance to get our lives back! I’m with Hermione — who would’ve thought that would work out? I was worried sick about what people would say about her when we got together; _she_ was the one who didn’t care. She taught me to be brave. Now, I’m encouraging you to be the same. Channel your inner Gry— no, I can’t say it. But you know what I mean.”

Narcissa laughed heartily. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Just promise you won’t put me in some poncy page boy outfit at the wedding.”

_“Draco!”_

* * *

_What Sauce Do You Want With That?_

Charlie stood in the kitchen with Narcissa’s invitation in his hand. Dinner in one hour, dress casual. She’d even put a small note at the bottom suggesting he wear those Muggle jeans and the faded T-shirt.

Thank you, Primark!

Molly stood by the Floo, giving her son the once over, while Andromeda hid in the kitchen with Arthur, pretending not to listen.

“Mum, what if I fuck it up?”

“ _Language!_ You’ll be fine, just be yourself.”

“But what if I don’t know which fork—”

“Charlie! Stop! It’ll be alright. I promise. Now… do you have a gift for Narcissa?”

“Yeah, it’s in my pocket.”

“Well, then, you’re all set,” Molly hugged him tightly, standing up on her toes to reach her arms around him. “Off you go.”

Charlie nodded and stepped into the Floo, turning once more to Molly. “Thanks, Mum.”

He arrived at the Manor to find Narcissa waiting for him by the Floo, his breath stolen by her sheer beauty as he stood frozen to the spot in front of the fireplace. Her caramel hair was tied back in a messy bun, the most casual style he’d ever seen her wear. But, he was rendered speechless by the oxford blue full-length sheath dress that hugged her slender figure and highlighted the creamy texture of her flawless skin. She was barefoot, standing with her hands folded neatly in front of her.

He was lost.

“Merlin, you’re so beautiful.”

She couldn’t respond. Charlie covered the space between them instantly, the look of pure intent on his face catching Narcissa by surprise. All she could manage was a sharp intake of breath before he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, weeks of desire for this woman almost bringing him to his knees.

All fears washed away in that moment, their souls alight from the feelings of being in each other’s arms. Narcissa grasped his T-shirt, just above the waistband, her fingers lightly brushing against the exposed skin.

He groaned against her lips. “Narcissa… please…”

“Charlie,” she moaned, pulling at the material. “I need you.”

He stepped back, breathing heavily, his eyes blazing as he practically tore the T-shirt away from his body. Her hands were on him directly, slender fingers caressing hard muscles and weathered skin. Soft lips tenderly kissed his scars, each one a trophy from the job he loved. Charlie closed his eyes, humming with the sheer pleasure of her touch.

Narcissa walked slowly around him, trailing her lips and fingers across his chest and back. Coming back around to face him, she smiled shyly, her eyes searching his.

“Charlie,” she whispered, his name like a prayer. She took his hand, pulling him gently towards the door. He followed without question.

Charlie knew, in that moment, he always would.

They walked in silence along the corridor to the sweeping staircase. The Manor was quiet, all trace of the pure-blood Malfoy portraits gone. In their place were lush landscapes and sea views, bringing a sense of home to the once austere building.

Narcissa lifted her long dress to continue up the stairs with her free hand, the other never leaving Charlie’s. As they continued down the first floor landing, he pulled her hair clip away, dropping it on the deep carpet and watching as she shook her head. Thick waves of dark blonde fell around her shoulders, teasing him to bury his fingers in the loose strands.

She stopped outside an ornate teak door, her free hand on the bronze handle. He moved closer — her hand still in his — to push the hair from her shoulder, kissing the exposed skin.

“Open the door, Narcissa,” he murmured. “Let me in.”

“Gods, yes,” she moaned, the feel of his tongue caressing her, making her wet for him. “Charlie…”

He let go of her hand as they entered her bedroom. Charlie didn’t care what the room looked like, or how it was furnished. All he wanted was right in front of him, sighing loudly as he tasted her skin over and over again.

Turning her around to face him, he ran his fingers through Narcissa’s hair as he kissed her, his tongue grazing her lower lip. She unfastened his belt buckle, pulling it slowly through the denim loops.

It landed on the floor, quickly joined by his boots, socks, and those Muggle jeans she liked so much.

Charlie had always taken control when it came to sex, regarding it as a means to an end. But this? He was at Narcissa’s mercy. Completely.

“Narcissa,” he panted, breathless with need for her. His erection was straining in his boxers, pulsing hard as she ran her hand over the taut material. “I… want to see you.”

She stepped away from him, reaching back to pull down the zip of her dress. Slowly she allowed it fall away from her skin, revealing a fine lace bra of palest pink. As the dress continued its descent, matching tanga briefs caught Charlie’s attention.

They would be coming off with his teeth.

The dress pooled around her feet and Narcissa kicked it aside as she moved back into Charlie’s embrace, his erection pressing hard against her stomach. His hands slid across her skin, trying to touch everywhere at once. She threw her head back, revealing the tops of her breasts to him, nipples begging to be touched.

He flicked open the bra’s clasp, discarding the lace on the floor, his hands grasping her arse and lifting her up to him. Charlie feasted from her breasts with his lips and tongue as Narcissa wrapped her legs around him, rubbing herself against his hardened muscles, desperate for friction.

They made it to the bed, both so close to coming from their arousal.

Lying her down gently, Charlie stood back to gaze down at her body as he pulled off his boxer shorts. He sighed with relief from the freedom, his cock already leaking heavily.

“So beautiful… need you…” he gasped. “Merlin…”

“We have all night, Charlie,” she assured him. “Stay with me.”

He crawled over her, kisses continuing down her neck and across her breasts again. He kept his promise, lips working their way towards her baby pink underwear until he snatched them in his teeth and ripped them from her body.

Narcissa cried out, arching upwards towards his mouth, aching for his lips to touch her there.

“Later,” he promised. “I can’t wait…”

Charlie moved to slide his cock along her folds, Narcissa practically begging him to take her.

“Please, please, please, Charlie… oh, Gods, please…”

In one swift movement, he thrust himself deep inside, burying his cock in her waiting core. He roared with desire for her, his body on fire.

Charlie moved swiftly, knowing he wouldn’t last long the first time. Leaning up on one hand, he traced his thumb across Narcissa’s clit as he pushed deeper and deeper into her.

“Charlie, Charlie, oh, I’m… I’m…”

She lost her voice, gasping for breath as her first orgasm shot through her body. He followed seconds after, crying out as he came inside her.

It took a few moments for them to calm themselves, adrenalin still pumping through their veins. It was so much more than either of them had imagined. And it was only the beginning.

They lay in each other’s arms for a long time afterwards, a light blanket covering their bared skin.

“I love you, Charlie,” Narcissa spoke against his chest. “It’s okay that—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, moving so they could lie face to face. “Don’t assume, Narcissa. Don’t think I’m just attracted to you, wanting a quick shag. I’m madly in love with you… I think I fell in love with you the moment you first touched me.”

“I felt it too,” she smiled. “In my heart and soul, I knew it.”

“Are you worried about the age gap?” He was cautious, but they needed to address the Hippogriff in the room at some stage.

“I was,” she admitted. “But I have Draco’s blessing. I don’t care about anything else. Just you.”

“We’ll face any problems together — if they happen — until everyone gets bored and moves on to something else,” he promised. “I’m not going anywhere, Narcissa. You’ll have to kick me out of your life.”

“I don’t plan to let you go, Charlie Weasley. Except down to the dining room… we were supposed to have dinner.”

“Why didn’t you say so!” He jumped out of the bed and grabbed his jeans. “I’m starving!”

“Too hungry to put your underwear back on?”

“They’ll be off again soon enough, why bother?”

She laughed, draping the blanket around her body and taking his hand.

The dining room table —  usually set to seat a dozen guests — was filled with bags and cartons, plastic containers, and disposable cutlery.

“Narcissa… what…”

“I asked Ginny what your favourite dinner was. I wanted to… well, anyway. Lucius always kept Muggle money in his study so I Apparated to the nearest town and found a Chinese Takeaway. I had no idea what to order so I picked everything on the menu. Then I was asked what sauce I wanted so I think there’s one of each kind too. And bags upon bags of white crispy things.”

Charlie was speechless, in shock at what she’d done. For him.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“Do you think your family might like to have takeaway?”

“Em… yeah… I don’t think Mum needs to cook for the next few days! Narcissa, you went to a Muggle town! You—”

“You gave me my life back, Charlie. My sense of being. But, first and foremost, you’ve made me feel love for the first time; true love for my soulmate. That’s a priceless gift.”

He took her in his arms and held her close, kissing the top of her head. “I love you.”

“I love you, Charlie.”

“Ever tried Chow Mein?”

* * *

_Send In The Clown_

“What the fuck are you waiting for, Mother?”

“I can’t find my garter—”

“DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE!”

“Oh, Draco, don’t be so childish. I helped Hermione get ready for her wedding day, didn’t I?”

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU, I’VE GOT MY FINGERS IN MY EARS. LALALALALALA!”

“Finished?”

“S’pose.”

“Speak properly!”

“Sorry.”

Draco? Are you happy with this?”

“My soon-to-be stepfather is less than a decade older than me. It’s a bit weird.”

“I want you to be happy with this, Draco. Or—”

“Now, definitely, _do not_ finish _that_ sentence. I’m thrilled for you, Mother. I’ve never seen you this… content. You deserve a happy life... with a dragon tamer. It’s like running away with a circus, only there’s no clowns. _OW!_ What was that for!”

“Idiot!”

“Love you, too. Now, let’s get rid of that Malfoy surname, yeah?”

“Thank you, Draco.”

“My pleasure… Mother?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think Charlie will want to adopt me?”

_Fin_

 

 


End file.
